This is a song about "Beat box"

Lamenting how life's new leaves led him to the penitent box

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops

So i can rip out your voice box,

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Verse 1: bruno mars still gayer than his juke box.

The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox

Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

Ridiculed cause i think outside the box

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Dumb asses hide the gun in a shoe box,

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops